


Soulmate AU's

by glitterrcritter



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterrcritter/pseuds/glitterrcritter
Summary: A place to store the soulmate au's I've written for Far Cry 5.Chapter One is JacobChapter Two is JosephChapter Three will be Staci :)





	1. Jacob Seed

**Author's Note:**

> This is Jacob x oc, not jacob x deputy
> 
> hit me up on tumblr @glitterrcritter

The memories come just before juvie.

Billie Holliday’s voice on the record player. Her mothers smile, kind and filled with love. Laughter and home-cooked meals. Singing lullabies and playing guitar.

Working everday for his ‘parents’. Waking at dawn to feed the livestock. Scrubbing the floors until his knees are bruised. Sleeping in the barn like animals.

Neon lights, the desert sun on her skin, growing up in the city of sin. Waiting in line at the pawnshop while her mother sells her heirloom jewellery. Wiping away tears when she asks her what’s wrong.

The smell of gasoline. The heat of flames. The power of an axe in his hand. The sight of his guardian, bloodied on the ground. Screams from the man's wife ringing in his ears.

Summers spent in the mountains. Peace on the lake with her grandfather. Exploring the woods. Laughter when she asks to pet the wolves.

Promises he couldn’t keep. Gates closing behind him. Terrible prison food. Worrying about his brothers. Do they have someone to protect them?

She has no father. Or at least, he’s never seen him. It’s a strange life, so different from his own. Full of joy and tears.

Her memories carry him through juvie, through being seperated from his family. When he joins the army he knows she’ll still be there when he returns. She’s only a kid. He hopes his memories don’t hurt her, fears that she’ll be scarred by what he might see. He reminds himself that she carries his childhood with her. That she’s already seen a lot. It’s nice not to be alone, even if he feels guilty for it.

He’s in combat and she’s having her first kiss, a girl with honey skin and shy green eyes. Hiding cigarettes from her mother, drinking cheap rum with her friends. Singing loudly in the passenger seat with a boy much older than she. Fumbling in the back, a mess of skin and clothes and her heartbeat loud in her chest.

She was born in the desert and now he feels its heat on his skin, thousands of miles away. The burn of chemicals and flame. The ache of thirst and hunger. The taste of another mans death on his lips. And then he’s a shell of himself while she’s only starting to bloom.

Her voice is more beautiful than anything he’s ever heard. She spends hours with a guitar in her hands, practicing until her fingertips callous and bleed. Her songs echo in his mind through his waking hours. He replays the memory of them each night as he tries to sleep.

Working as a waitress, where grown men whisper in her ear and try to grab her ass. One of them following her in the dark. Her fists pummeling into his face, adrenaline pumping through her veins. The crunch of her hands and his jaw. Pride, swelling in his chest at the sight of his girl, a fighter.

She’s addicted to the feeling. She starts to seek them out, people who bump into her, people who look at her the wrong way. Red at the corners of her vision as she makes them feel her pain. Until she hits the wrong person.

Her mothers tears as she walks through the gates. Following his footsteps she’s behind bars. Her stifling bordeom in juvie. Writing songs with the hope that one day they’ll be someones favourite. The mean girls, so much bigger than her, with angry eyes and snarling teeth.

He’s sweating into the sheets of his cot. Calling out to ghosts in the night. He’s left the war but it’s followed him home. His mind is buried in the desert sands.

Then there’s a knife in her stomach and he feels her pain as one. She’s bleeding out and she tries to scream but her voice is caught in her throat. Recovery is difficult, but she comes back stronger than before. He wonders if she feels his joints ache in the winter, if she feels the shrapnel buried in his flesh, if she feels the burns on his arms.

Her mother dies while she’s locked up and she’s never felt so alone. Hours spent sobbing into her bunk, overwhelmed with guilt that she wasn’t there for her.

Then finally she's out of juvie. The warmth of the sun on her face. Chocolate milkshakes and fries. Freedom never tasted so good.

She’s staying with her father, a man she never thought she’d know. He’s utterly unimpressive. A deadbeat. A tweaker. She’s gone two weeks later, all alone at 17.

He’s waisting away in a veterans centre and she’s thriving.

Singing on stages at parties. A meeting in a record studio. Hope shining within her, so full of joy she might burst. A man dripping in gold’s hand where she doesn’t want it. Her hands wrapped around his throat. The cold barrel of a gun against her back.

Her hope being snuffed out like a candleflame.

The loneliness of the streets is overwhelming. People walk by but see nothing. Eyes look right past him. He’s invisible. Nothing.

She moves in with a man with blonde hair and dark eyes and scars on his wrists. He speaks with venom but his eyes say love. She tells him she’s his. The words burn. She’s given up on him, but why wouldn’t she? He’s old and broken and she’s full of life.

She’s robbing a store with her man. It’s a scene that’s not unfamiliar, but his heartbeat is loud in his chest as he watches it play out. There’s a bullet in her thigh and she’s on the floor. Caught like a rabbit in a trap and her friend is gone.

She’s back in a cage, but it’s a real one this time. Suffocating behind the bars; she’s not meant for this life. Four years later and she’s free.

She’s back in the arms of her terrible love. His tongue is full of apologies and she drinks them up like liquor. The prick of a tattoo gun. Lines of cocaine and drowning in whiskey. Wasting years to the poison, while he’s wasting years on the street.

Her life is a flurry of highs and lows. Blistered feet from dance and vomit-stained toilet bowls. Stolen diamonds around her neck and yesterday's makeup on her pillowcase. Deafening music in her ears and bloodied fists from her anger.

Darkness is creeping in at the edges and she’s roaring down the street in her beat-up car, her lover beside her. He’s yelling at her and his words are poison. The barrel of a gun pressed against her temple. Swerving off the road, the car is tumbling. She can’t tell which way is up. And then her best friend is dead and she’s drowning in guilt. She’s on her own again and he’s reunited with his brothers.

He’s in Hope County, Montana and she’s up in the wind. It’s familiar to him, but he can’t place why. He’s pushed her memories away now, accepted her as something he can’t have. She wouldn’t belong here. Nevada is the only home she’s ever known. It’s a sacrifice for his family, but she gave up on him first.

She’s packing up her things, her whole life stuffed into a bag. She’s on the road for hours, blasting old music. He wonders if he influenced her taste for it.

He’s been in Montana for a year now.

He pulls into the gas station with his soldiers. The idiots had forgotten to fill the tank. They’d be punished for it later.

He goes to walk towards the counter, because they can’t be trusted with it, but something stops him before he can step through the doorway.

_Only you… can make this change in me…_

His blood runs cold. He knows that voice.

He turns to the sound and she’s there, behind the cash register, flipping through a magazine. The doorbell chimes but she doesn’t look up. He walks towards her, one foot after the other, caught in a dream.

_For it’s true… you are my-_

She’s seen him. Her face falls to shock and then brightens. She smiles and his knees almost crumble beneath him.

“Hi,” she says simply, his heart beating in his ears. “I didn’t expect to see you here."

When he doesn’t reply she continues.

“I’m Leah."


	2. Joseph Seed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's Joseph. Oops it got a bit long. Pratt will be next :)

With each passing year, Joseph grows more worried that he doesn't have a soulmate. That he’s been denied this universal gift, the promise of unconditional love, just as he’s been denied loving parents. One night, as his father beats him for some minor transgression, he retreats within himself as he often does. Only this time, he prays. He asks God for a soulmate. He doesn’t care who, just that he has one. He promises to love them, no matter what.

But it seems his prayers go unanswered. Every night, he hopes to dream of them and every night his wish is unfulfilled. At school, he fights back tears as his classmates brag about theirs. Jacob tells him to have patience, that the memories will come, but it isn't so easy.

In the meantime, he lets his imagination run wild. He envisions her living hundreds of different lives. She’s a princess, next in line for the throne in some far away country; or she’s living on a boat in the middle of the ocean, with nothing but the stars for company; or she’s cuddling up to a polar bear in an igloo, snow and ice reaching far into the horizon- anything to fill the void that he feels without her.

When the Voice first speaks to him, It mentions her. It tells him that he is destined to give humanity it’s last chance, with her and his brothers by his side. His heart has never felt so full. It’s not quite a memory, but it’s more than enough to carry him until they arrive.

When he first dreams of her he’s already been separated from his brothers.

The smell of pancakes in the morning. Her mom brushing her hair into pigtails before kindergarten. Her dogs happy barks and wagging tail when she gets home. Gathering change from her piggy bank and running outside when she hears the ice cream truck pull into her street.

Her childhood couldn’t be more different from his own. Her family is the American dream made flesh.

A father and mother who love her. A two-story home with a freshly mown lawn. Waving to the neighbours every morning. It’s nothing like his fantasies, but it’s perfect.

He lets the warmth of her memories fill him, lets them ease his loneliness. They, along with the Voice, are his only comfort as he is taken in by families that promise him things, promise him a taste of happiness like hers, only to return him to the orphanage like a broken piece of furniture. As if children come with receipts. He can’t wait to have someone who will love him, accept him. Someone who won’t abandon him. You can’t exchange your soulmate. But part of him fears, if she could, would she?

He hopes John’s family treat him well, hopes that he doesn’t forget him. He knows that Jacob will be okay. That he’s strong enough to come out the other side of juvie in one piece.

Her father is away a lot, for days at a time, on business. They speak on the phone every night. He always brings her a gift when he returns, anything from a bar of candy to a teddy bear. She runs to the door to greet him and he scoops her up into a hug and swings her around in his arms.

He ages out of the foster system and part of him is bitter that he never got the chance to have a family like hers, even though envy is a sin. With his freedom, his first stop is Rome. Back to where his life began, back to find his family once more.

But Rome is no longer the place he knew. He sees no trace of his childhood there. It’s moved on, without him, and out of its ashes is born a thriving place. No more widow creaking on the rocking chair, no more cracked roads, no more peeling paint. He won’t find his brothers here.

She laughs a lot, at everything, and the sound is heartwarming. At the buzzing of honeybees in flowers or earthworms wriggling in the soil, at the splash of muddy puddles under her rain boots, at their Beagle shaking water off of his coat. He’s never seen someone full of such joy.

He lives in an abandoned factory, working nights as a bellhop. He’s glad she’s still too young to understand that he’s homeless. He wants her to brag about him to her friends like the children in his class did so long ago. He’s fired for the first time, and he’s glad she won’t understand that, too.

Flicking through newspapers for hours on end, staring at yearbooks until he could claw his eyes out from boredom, looking for any trace of his brothers. He doesn’t find any. His focus widens. He pores over texts about religion, in an effort to understand why he was chosen, why him out of all people.

While he’s spending weeks in the library she's building homes for fairies in the twisted roots of the trees in her garden. Making potions she calls perfume out of the petals of flowers. Helping her mother bake apple pies and waiting eagerly as they cool on the windowsill.

Her life is a fairytale. It’s perfect, _too perfect,_ until it isn’t.

Her father is away again. She’s asleep, until a crash from downstairs wakes her. Her dog barks from the foot of her bed. She holds him back by his collar.

“Mom?” she calls out and she’s in her room in an instant.

“Put Lucky in the closet and get under your bed, baby, and be quiet. Everything will be okay, but you have to stay quiet."

Her mother dials 911 as she leaves the room.

_"I think there’s someone in my house.”_

A gunshot ringing in the air.

Lucky won’t stop barking.

He wishes she listened to her mother. She tiptoes down the staircase, drowning in fear. Her mother lies on the carpet, so still, so quiet. Blood pools around her head. Unseeing eyes meeting her own.

There are two men but only one of them has noticed her. He has a gun in one hand while the other slides off her mother’s wedding ring. He speaks in angry whispers, glancing to his companion and back to her.

“Get your ass upstairs, girlie, and keep your mouth shut. You make a sound and I’ll kill you. Shut that dog up, too."

She does as she’s told, hurrying back upstairs as quietly as she can. She holds Lucky's mouth shut as she hides under her bed, staring at the fluffy white clouds painted on her pink walls.

The police are there minutes later and at first she mistakes their sirens for the ice cream truck. One of the men is dragged away in cuffs. The other flees, but he’s later caught.

There’s a blanket around her shoulders, hot cocoa warming her hands. A kind smile from a man with a badge.

He feels guilt for his previous envy of her childhood. She’ll never find her mother like he would find his brothers. She was lost to her forever. Her tragedy teaches him that life is fleeting, a fact that he knew but had never felt before. It drives him to seek out his family, to be reunited with them as soon as possible, since you never know how much time you have left.

He searches for Jacob first, in the forests of northern Georgia. Sweaty summer heat accompanies insect bites but his brother is nowhere to be found. He tries John next, in the wilds of Atlanta. He works as a garbage collector in the meantime and he's squatting again. She’s old enough to understand now, but he doesn’t care as much as before. He sees his old worries for what they were; pride. She’ll understand. She’s his soulmate.

Her sense of safety has been stolen from her, but he never had one to begin with. She moves with her father and her dog as soon as her mother is buried, to a new home in a new city. They don’t stay in one place for more than a few years, like they're afraid of growing roots again.

She doesn’t laugh much anymore. In fact, she barely speaks at all. Years of almost-silence and sometimes he can’t remember what her voice sounded like. The Voice is silent, too, and its absence and his failure weaken his sense of purpose. Sadness is about the only thing they have in common, and he draws strength from the fact that he’s not alone with it. If she can go on, then so can he.

He’s working at a psychiatric hospital and she’s sitting through hours of therapy. The office she’s in is nothing like his place of work, with its leather chairs and tasselled curtains. Her psychiatrist is a man full of pride and the money and time it costs to be there is wasted on her. She refuses to speak to him. Her dog brings her more comfort, with his wagging tail and slobbery kisses. At night she weeps into his fur and falls asleep to his soft snores. The dog shares her trauma, just as Joseph does. He hopes one day he can comfort her, and if feels strange to envy a dog.

Her dad tries, he does, but it’s not enough. He leaves her sticky notes around the house. Messages. A smiley face on the fridge door. Have a nice day! written on her lunchbox. I love you stuck on her bedroom door. He doesn’t know how else to reach her. They make her smile, if only a little. There’s distance between them now. He’s stifled in their house.

Three men jump him. It’s been a long time since he’s been beaten and there’s a bizarre nostalgia in their blows. The Voice breaks It’s silence that night. He’s not proud of the way he gets it to speak to him; the insults, the accusations- but he’d given up so much for It by now.

The vision It shows him strengthens his resolve until it is tougher than steel. His mission is clear to him. The end of the world would be upon them and he is humanities last bastion of hope. He is the Father now and he will save his chosen children from the collapse. But first, he needs to find his family. She would join him too, in time. Once she is ready.

She pores her focus into schoolwork while he devotes himself to finding his brothers. He reunites with John in Rome and shares his purpose with him, helps lift him out of his darkness. John tattoos his skin and his own, and they wear their sins and their cause for all to see. This first victory fuels him further, the momentum carrying him to find Jacob. Johns influence and money make it easier, and it isn’t long before he’s searching every shelter in Rome for any sign of him.

He sifts through seas of drifters, identical in their defeated faces and worn clothing. He is undeterred by the difficulty of his task and his perseverance pays off. He finds Jacob a broken man, so he builds him back up again, piece by piece until he is strong once more. He preaches out of a former slaughterhouse and its echoes of death and suffering keep most people away. But slowly, his flock starts to grow.

He swears she’s happy for him, that his successes help drive her to be greater. If her soulmate can rebuild his life from ashes, then why can’t she? But her suffering is not yet over.

She arrives home from school, as she does every day, but something isn’t right. Her dog doesn’t run to the door. She finds him in his bed, weak but still wagging his tail at the sight of her. They rush to the vet, and it’s cancer, and there’s not much time left.

They don’t put him down. They leave it in God’s hands.

The dog dies two weeks later, peacefully in his sleep. He’d lived a full life and been loved more than most people, but it’s still sad. She helps her father dig his grave, out in the woods. It doesn’t feel right to let him leave the world in flames. No, she’d rather he nurture the earth as he supported her, just by being. They plant flowers on top, uprooting them from nearby. She knows they’ll never visit, that they’ll be gone before the wounds from this loss heal, but she feels she must mark his passing with something. To honour what he did for her.

He’s moving his flock to Montana and she’s graduating top of her class.

He wants to go to her, of course, but his new family is his priority. He knows she’ll find her way to his side. The Voice promised it. And she’s okay now, mostly. She’s safe. She can wait.

She enrols in law school and moves out of her fathers home. Her hugs her like he’s afraid if he lets go she’ll disappear forever. She makes few friends, her silence promises that, but there’s one boy she’s found of. He wears round glasses and is full of nervous laughter.

He kisses her one night, in the quiet of the library, and Joseph has to fight back his envy. He would have gone to her by now, if not for his purpose, and the sacrifice weighs heavily on him. When kisses turn to heated touches and gasps in her dorm room it takes all of his self-control to not book a flight to see her.

He’d never even kissed anyone before. He’d saved himself for her, because they were meant to be. God willed it so. Out of everyone, they are each other’s. She is his and he is hers.

She drops out of school before the semester ends and forgets the first boy who gave her butterflies. She knows it’s not her purpose. She'd only went because it’s what she thought she was supposed to do.

She knows about the Voice. She must by now, with all the times he’s spoken about it. All the times he’d been fired for it.

She spends hours in the library poring over books with titles likes ’ _Surviving Schizophrenia: A Family Manual_ '. She sneaks into abnormal psych lectures at the local college. She goes to church, too. Sits in the back pews and watches the way people respond to the words of the preacher. All in an effort to understand. Understand him, understand the Voice that had both blessed and haunted his life. He wishes she knew that this wasn’t some illness, some sickness to be cured, but her efforts warm his heart nonetheless. It was more than anyone else had ever done for him.

She joins the police academy while they interrogate him for murder with no proof. He doesn't hold it against her; they’d saved her as a child. He loves that she wants to help people, to save them just as he does. And he loves that she doesn’t channel her grief or her trauma into sin, as many others do. She lets them fuel her to do good.

His project gains footing in Montana as she gains experience with the force. He hopes she doesn’t judge him for some of the terrible things he has to do, that she understands what's at stake. Eventually, the call to him is too strong and she transfers to Hope County. She uproots her whole life, just for him, not that she had many roots to begin with.

She doesn’t seek him out straight away like he’d hoped, but he gives her time. He’d waited so many years already; he could wait a little longer. They call her Rookie even though she’s not one. She has more experience than some of the other deputies. She finds a family of sorts in them. They’re patient with her quietness. They’re not perfect; Pratt’s jokes are too mean, Hudson's a little too honest and Whitehorse too gruff.

She doesn’t sleep well for days before the mission.

He awaits her arrival with excitement. She’ll finally take her place by his side. He’ll finally be able to hold her in his arms. To walk to Eden’s gate with her. To forge a new world together.

She walks into the chapel during his sermon, trailing behind the two men with her. She looks so nervous he can almost hear her heart pounding in her chest. She meets his gaze but she doesn’t smile like he wants her to. Like he hoped she would. She stares back at him, her wide eyes sad and full of disappointment. It’s heartbreaking.

It feels a lot like a betrayal and this fuels his words with passion and bitterness. His heartbeat is loud but steady in his chest. He sees her fear as he speaks, as his children so fiercely protect him. She shouldn’t be afraid. She should know he’d never hurt her.

“God will not let them take me."

He sees her as something else now, understands some purpose for her that he didn’t before. She is a test from their Creator. This won't be so simple as an embrace and soft words. No, there will be flames and suffering before she is by his side.

“And behold it was a white horse, and Hell followed with him."

He holds his hands out to her but his eyes do not say surrender.

“God will not let you take me,” he repeats and it’s both a threat and a promise.

She hesitates, and for a moment he thinks she might abandon her duty, but she listens to the orders of her superiors and cuffs him. Her arms tremble and he can see tears in her eyes. Her hand is on his back and his breath hitches as her thumb traces across one of his scars.

She leads him through the crowd, towards the helicopter, like they’re Moses parting the red sea. He keeps his eyes forward, his mouth shut, even though he wants to face her, to touch her, to convince her to join his cause.

He remains calm through the chaos of take off, as his people try to save him. He doesn't have to defend her. He knows that just as God will protect him, he’ll protect her, too. His voice is quiet over the whirring blades and the madness, but she recognises the hymn he sings. He doesn’t falter as one of his followers leap into the blades, as the helicopter wavers and crashes.

“Deputy Pratt, are you there? Are you there?"

His hand is on her wrist as she reaches out to respond to dispatch, his cuffs nowhere to be seen. He regards her with disturbingly serene eyes, both trying to read her thoughts and surveying her for injuries from the crash. She bruised and bleeding, but the wounds are shallow.

_That saved a wretch like me..._

She’s trembling with fear. He releases her.

“You shouldn't be afraid. I’ll never hurt you."

She doesn’t look like she believes him.

“I told you that God wouldn’t let you take me.”

Her silence is filled with Nancy’s voice, begging for information over the radio.

“Dispatch."

"Oh my god,” Nancy replies and he can’t help but smile as her eyes widen at the realisation those three words bring.

“Everything is just fine here. No need to call anyone."

“Yes, Father. Praise be to you."

His eyes don’t leave hers as he leans in so close she can feel his warm breath on her skin. It’s as if time itself has stopped.

“No one is coming to save you, but I can. Come with me. Let us walk to Eden’s gate together."

His words are almost begging. She looks so torn and he wishes she could just agree, just give in to him. She shakes her head no and his hand reaches for her, wanting to cease the movement, to change it into a nod or a smile. He caresses her cheek, skin soft and damp from tears. She leans into his touch, a small, fractured sob escaping her throat.

He thinks how he must look to her, with his tattoos and scars, surrounded by men with wild beards and hair, and he almost understands. Except they're soulmates. She should be able to get past it.

He wonders what she was expecting. She has seen his memories. Perhaps she thought the sight of her would sway him from his mission. She doesn't believe him yet. She thinks he’s ill, that he needs help, that he is the one who needs saving. She may see his acts but she doesn’t see his purpose. Doesn’t yet understand.

It is no matter. She’ll come around. God will make sure of it.

“You will be by my side,” he tells her, unfastening her from her seat and catching her so she does not fall. “It is God’s will.”

It is difficult to release her, but he knows he must. He steps back from her, returning to his children and they embrace him like Christ risen from the dead. She tries to free her friends, still disorientated from the crash. He stands atop a car to address his people, his arms extended, palms facing the sky.

“Begin the Reaping!"


End file.
